


Of Work and Points

by Shes-claws-deep (CyrilOdahviing)



Series: April Fest 2019 [14]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Begging, F/M, Female Dominance, Femdom, Impact Play, Orgasm Control, PIV Sex, Paddle, Spanking, Sub!Echo, bratty echo, crop, dom!reader, tiddy sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 22:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19344283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrilOdahviing/pseuds/Shes-claws-deep
Summary: Echo decides he's had enough of you working while he's on his day off. Cue him offering his help with your work and maybe earning some orgasm points on the way ;D And what else does he do but cash in his reward once he's earned enough.





	Of Work and Points

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baysian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baysian/gifts).



“More work again?” Masaru’s voice breaks you from your train of thought. He comes in from behind you, a sleepy look on his face, and plants his chin on your head. “I thought you were done?”

You sigh and shrug, shrinking in your seat as he puts more and more pressure on your head. “It’s just a bit of work, Masaru, I’ll be done soon.” When the pain of his pointed chin pressing painfully into your crown gets too much, you flail your arm and smack him in the face. “Off!”

Like a cat, he lazily obeys and plants his cheek on that same spot instead. “That’s what you said last night and I fell asleep before you got into bed.” Pouting, the soldier whines and kneads at your shoulders. “Master, I took the day off for you and you’re spending it doing your work! Surely you can do it tomorrow?”

“Masaru.”

He groans and complains even more. “My days off are precious, Master. Play with me now and you can go back to your work later?”

A peal of laughter slips out of you and you slap at one hand that’s grasping just a little too tight. “You’ve been sleeping most of the day away, you hypocrite. If you really wanted to play earlier, you would’ve bothered me after we woke up.” Of course, you know Masaru loves to sleep in where possible, and he definitely wouldn’t have initiated morning sex unless under very, very, special circumstances.

“Fair enough,” Masaru rumbles, his teeth worrying his lip as he reconsiders his plan of attack. Suddenly, a thought strikes him and a cunning, evil grin spreads across his handsome features. He purrs, wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing his plush lips to your ear. “How about I help you out, Master?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you shake your head so you can drag him to your side. There, he kneels, perching his chin upon his knuckles and giving you a sly little smile, ringed with smug satisfaction and a cunning plan brewing behind his dark eyes. You pinch his nose and let go, muttering down at him, “I don’t suppose you’re offering your help out of the good of your heart?”

Masaru almost snorts. Out of the good of his shrivelled little black heart? The heart that he put into your hands long ago, the heart that you accepted with a smile and a heartfelt thank you despite being all too aware of his propensity to put your problems to his advantage. He nips at your knuckles with a smile, purring, “Mmm, you know me too well, Master. How about a trade? I finish your work, you give me my Points?”

Points with a capital ‘P’, wherein if he gathers enough of them, he can redeem a single orgasm or other treats that you’d otherwise deny. If his calculations are correct, and they usually are, he just needs a handful more points before he can get his long-awaited orgasm. He’s been enjoying this little game of tease and denial, make no mistake, but if you fuck him and jump off to make him finish you with his mouth before he cums again, he’s going to lose his mind.

On your end, you roll your eyes and pinch at his lips once he lets go of your knuckle. “Of course, why am I not surprised.” Idly slipping your fingers inside his willing mouth, you think over his offer. Truthfully, your eyes and brain are starting to hurt since you’ve been at this since breakfast; it could use a second pair of eyes to ensure everything’s alright, too. Exchanging this mind-numbing work for some fun with Masaru later today? If it weren’t for the potentially embarrassing kinks he’d ask for, you’d have accepted in a heartbeat. “I’ll exchange work for points,” you begin, tutting Masaru quickly when he moves to surge to his feet, “But! I’m not doing that teacher-student roleplay.”

Pouting petulantly, he puffs his cheeks up. “Why not?” Other than the fact that you blushed so much you couldn’t stay in character, especially when he called you 'sensei’.

You roll your eyes and poke his cheek to deflate it. “Because you cum way too quickly when we do. If I’m going to let you cum tonight, it’s going to be on my terms.”

“It always is, master,” Masaru purrs and kisses your knuckles tenderly. “But…perhaps someday soon? I managed to dig up my old uniform.” And his sister’s, just in case you ever decided that you want to put Masaru-sensei in his place. Maybe even step all over him for being too harsh in his marking, telling him he’d better revise his marking or face even more pain. In his pants, his cock stirs and grows hard, tenting the soft fabric and drawing your eyes.

“Stop thinking about it.”

Shit. Willing his erection down, Masaru grins ferally up at you. “You can’t blame me if you’re too hot in a suit.” And above him. And over him. And every other position where he’s at your mercy, no matter your outfit. Still, he has to redirect your attention before his mind gets away from him again. “So, how about it, Master? Come on, let me help you out~”

Finally cracking, you sigh and tip your head back. “Fine, but-” Before you can even finish your sentence, Masaru is picking you up in his arms and carting you to the bedroom. “Hey! You’re supposed to be doing my work!”

“I wanna do it in here~” he simpers, dumping you on the bed and trotting off to get your laptop.

You sigh and flop on your back, rolling and stretching over the still-warm bedsheets and rumpled blanket. He really did just roll out of bed and freshen himself up before he went to find you. It’s a miracle his back isn’t aching from how long he’s spent lying down.

“Back!” he chirps and urges you to sit up near the headboard with one hand, open laptop balanced on the other. At your questioning glance, he pouts again. “I want to do work while cuddling. Please?” He crawls onto the bed then, setting the laptop aside as he creeps towards you on all fours, making sure to display his built chest and round ass as he sways. “Master can do anything she wants to me while I work~” Smugly, he notes that your lips are twitching, as though you’re trying to suppress a smile, and he presses a kiss to your belly. Your sternum. Between your breasts, making sure to ignore the temptation of your pert nipples poking up at him from under your shirt. And then to your clavicle when he gives you a long, wet kiss, coupled with a moan. “Your slave could use the, hm, motivation that his Master’s hand gives inspires.”

You, now, are struggling not to succumb to his lovely kisses, his deep accented voice purring out promises of what you can wrest from him, and you curl your hands into his unruly hair. With a sharp wrench of your wrists, you pull his head back and snarl toothily down at him. “You overstep your boundaries, Masaru.”

He bites his lip and flutters his long lashes at you. “Ah, my apologies, Master,” he moans, eyes rolling into the back of his head. “How can I make it up to you?” His tongue rolls over his lower lip, wetting it and making it glisten ever so enticingly. There’s a fifty-fifty chance you’ll kiss him right now and by all the gods, he’s hoping it lands on 'kiss him’.

Unfortunately for Masaru, your self-control prevails and you lower your hands to his neck, where you encircle your fingers around the thick column and press tightly without choking him. “You can make it up to me by doing what you promised. Get to work, slave.”

Ah, what a pity. Masaru pouts visibly but obeys, crawling to the laptop and opening it while he shuffles back into the vee of your legs. He wriggles close, grinning at your sigh and leaning back into your soft chest. The points of your nipples dig into his bare back, and gods it’s the most arousing yet frustrating thing he’s felt yet. He really, *really*, wants to have those in his mouth sometime in the next hour and if he has to beg and grovel for them, so be it.

Damnit, come on Masaru, concentrate! He never thought he’d thank his combat training, but here he is, using that skill of pushing past distractions to put his skills to good use. Which in this case is just a relatively simple report, take a couple of numbers from here and there and come up with his own numbers and-

Fingers trail up his sides, feather-like, taking a moment to trace his muscles, caressing every dip and hill, every scar of past tours, and by the time they finally reach his pecs, he’s already biting his lip fiercely, his teeth sunk so deep he could start bleeding at any moment. “Don’t bite so hard,” you purr into his ear, tugging his lip free from his teeth. “Don’t damage my property.”

Gulping thickly, Masaru nods but keeps his eyes glued to the screen and his fingers moving. “Y-yes, Master.” It’s a struggle not to start biting his lower lip again, particularly when you start to pluck and pinch at his dusky nipples. It’s not like he’s particularly sensitive there, it’s just…it’s just you know the best way to get his attention. You know just how to make them perk and stand at attention, treading that fine line between pain and pleasure until even his training can’t keep his mind off the sensations assaulting his body. “A-ah-ah! M-master,” he moans breathlessly, his mouth hanging open and his fingers stuttering on the keyboard. “I-I’m going to lose-have to start over-”

A dark chuckle rumbles into his ear and he shivers, a chill rippling through him as you blow softly onto the sensitive flesh of the shell of his ear. “Oh, if you have to start over, start over. I don’t want you to mess up my report.” As you say that, your hands cup his meaty pecs and squeeze lightly, massaging and kneading as you would your own breasts. Your nails bite into his tanned skin too, cutting deep into his flesh until he’s twitching and grunting from the pain of it. “But you’re thorough enough not to need to do that, right, Masaru-kun?” Dragging your nails down his skin, down his abs, tangling your fingers into the dark happy trail leading to his shorts, you growl into his ear, “My smart, intelligent Masaru-kun who doesn’t make mistakes~”

A deep moan ekes through his lips despite his best efforts. Masaru whimpers as quietly as he can manage, squirming against you and rubbing his thighs together to try and ease the ache in his crotch. God, fuck, you know exactly what praise does to him. How it softens him and makes him melt like nothing else. That combined with your hands that are slowly slipping under the band of his sweatpants, and he’s quickly wondering if he’s just dug himself into a deeper hole of tease and denial. “Master~”

“Fill in the next cell, Masaru-kun,” you croon into his ear, pointing out the one you’re talking about. “Then calculate the gross total down here.” Your voice is level and calm, slowly guiding him until his blood leaves his cock and goes back to his head. “That’s it, my clever boy. You got this, you’re going to do my report so well and there aren’t going to be any mistakes, right Masaru-kun?”

Panting, he grins and kisses your cheek with trembling lips. “Yes, Master,” he moans softly and does exactly what you tell him, his hands steadying the longer he types. This time, with your voice occasionally directing him when his focus starts to wander, he manages to keep on task despite your fingers playing with the shaft of his cock. His cock that’s teetering between half-hard and fully hard, engorging and softening as you tease his head, his foreskin, his balls. If he didn’t have your voice grounding him, he’d definitely have been distracted a long time ago. “If you keep praising me, Master, I’ll work faster and better. Motivation is key, right?”

A bark of laughter explodes behind him. “Motivation is key? Where the heck did you learn that?” Coming from the laziest of men, you’re honestly tickled by the phrase. Olivier must have said it once while trying to get Masaru to do something on the range.

“Mmhm, motivation is key, Master. And I’m motivated by kisses and praises,” he purrs, twisting around enough to kiss your shoulder.

Still giggling a little, you concede and hug him tight, your hands still itching to wander. “Fine, fine, keep going, my clever boy. The faster you finish, the earlier you get to play.”

He grins widely and narrows his focus back on the glowing screen and countless lines of numbers and words. “Now we’re talkin’.”

Each time he fills out a sheet, he gets kisses to his neck. Sloppy, wet, breathy kisses that make him squirm and moan and quickly press Ctrl-S before he loses his work. Each time he double checks his formulas and it’s correct, he gets several pumps of his cock that make him throw his head back and press into your chest, his hips twitching and his thighs clenching. And when he finishes his work and when you’ve double checked to ensure that he’s got everything just right, he gets a hand in his hair, nails on his belly, and a rough kiss to his lips. Moaning throatily, he saves the spreadsheet and tosses the laptop onto the bedside table, rotating his body around so he can return your kiss with gusto.

“Mmm, have I made it up to you, Master?” he asks with lidded eyes and wet lips.

You smile down at him. “Yes, I think you have, Masaru. I’m lucky to have such a clever boy to help me with my work.” Kissing him once more, you murmur against his lips, “You’re a lot faster than I am, too.”

A sly, smug glint enters his dark eyes and he tilts his head up at you, looking through his thick lashes, and purrs, “Mmm, are you conceding that I’m your senpai in this, Master? Maybe I could teach you a thing or two about accounting, hm?” Shifting so he hovers above you, his hips slot between your thighs and presses his erection against your inner thigh. “Maybe you could even call me…sensei~”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you close your hands around his throat. “You’re toeing the line again.” But the smile in your voice can’t be concealed.

Masaru purrs deep in his throat and presses into your palms, hard, letting the pressure make his lashes flutter and his heart skip a beat. “Mmm, if not sensei, then maybe you can call me the master of focus~” He strains to kiss you, only to be warded off by your hands around his neck. “I didn’t mess up or restart even when you were trying to distract me.”

“So you didn’t,” you mutter in acquiescence, trying to sound bitter but instead sounding amused. “You did have a couple of typos though.”

“Human error.” Masaru waves it off. “Come on, Master, just call me sensei~ Just once?”

Finally breaking, you laugh and pinch his skin. “No!”

“Pleeease?”

“No!”

“Masaru-sensei has a nice ring to it, ne?” Pitching his voice deeper, sultrier, he drags his hand down your side until he reaches bare skin, inching his fingers under the thin fabric of your shirt. “Or maybe Masaru-shishou?”

Snorting, you tap his cheek warningly while suppressing your grin. “Watch yourself, Masaru-chan. Don’t want to land yourself in hot water when your points are on the line.” The suffix is meant to be derogatory, a cute little thing to affix to his name, but rather than anger him or piss him off, all it does is make him grin cutely.

Unfazed, your boy dots kisses up and down your shoulders and neck, a smile evident on his lips with every peck, every smooch. “Mmm, come now, Master. No reward for the hero who saved you from the villainous spreadsheets?” At the barely restrained guffaw that gets stuck in your throat, Masaru pouts even more and simpers at you. “I’m so tired from all the thinking and typing, Master, don’t I deserve something nice? Maybe a massage, a cup of tea, or even…some kisses for your hero?”

You roll your eyes but give him the kiss he desires, tilting your head and deepening it until he’s panting into your mouth. His weight falls on you slowly but surely, pinning you under him with delicious pressure. One arm winds behind your back while the other splays over your belly, his warm hand covering the soft flesh protectively. For a while, the only thing to be heard in the room is the sound of smooching, slick soft sounds of lips sliding against each other, and quiet panting.

Wriggling your arms out from under his chest, you scrape your nails up and around his neck, smoothing your palms over the wide expanse of his back. His immensely warm skin sears your palms, setting a fire aflame within you and urging you to squeeze at the powerful muscles over his shoulders in an effort to anchor yourself to this reality. A moan rumbles under your touch, growing louder as you knead and press at his rippling flesh. Reverberating through you from his mouth to yours, creating wave after wave of shivers until you’re almost trembling in his arms.

Masaru, too, isn’t spared from it. He’s shaking a little as his arms tire, his back curving and arching under your nails as you switch from massaging to scratching deep furrows into his tanned skin. Soft little moans leak out from him intermittently, like little air kisses that replace his own kisses when he becomes too distracted to kiss you back.

Suddenly, he parts from you with a soft pop and grins down at your dazed eyes. “Mmm, Master, I believe I’ve accumulated enough points for an orgasm today.”

Jolted from your haze, you blink rapidly. “What?”

“I’ve been a good boy for the past few weeks, Master,” he croons, nosing at your cheek lovingly. “I’ve been keeping track, which means I’ve got enough for the privilege to cum today~”

Oh, right, the point system. Pretending to be put upon, you sigh dramatically and flop back, your nails still digging into his thick shoulders. “Alright, fine. How do you want it?” You really have no idea how he’s going to spin this, whether he wants it to be fast and dirty or if he wants you to do it your own way as long as he gets his orgasm at the end. He can be as unpredictable as he is lazy, really.

And surprise you he does. Stretching sinuously, he kisses your lips gently and grins. “Master, maybe you can spank your naughty boy. I’ve annoyed you, haven’t I?”

Spanking? You peer up at his bottomless eyes, at the energy itching under his skin and making it crawl. Ah. “Hmm, you really think you can cum from being spanked, Masaru-chan?” Reaching further south, you slap one generous ass cheek with an open palm, grabbing and holding so hard that he actually winces. “My little slut wants to cum from the pain, hm?”

The grin that stretches across his lips is shaky but cocksure. “You’ve trained me well, Master. Besides, you know I’m a do-M~”

Of course, you knew he was a masochist all this time, but to be able to get off on spanking alone is a ridiculous idea. Maybe for a day where you feel like denying him the pleasure of touching his cock. “Get me my paddle and crop,” you order, punctuating it with a firm slap on the other cheek. “And take your pants off.”

“Yes, Master,” he drawls and slides off with catlike grace, stripping his sweats in one swift move before trotting over to your toy chest to retrieve your requested items.

As he bends down, you can see the faint red marks of your palms starting to glow just a little on his ass. It’s always amused you that his ass is a paler colour than the rest of his body, what with tan lines and all, but you’re never more glad for it than when you beat his ass. Like today. While he rifles through the unsurprisingly disorganised toy chest, you take the time to enjoy how the muscles of his shoulders and back ripple with every movement. The endearing curve of his back and neck as he slouches then straightens his back, and slouches again. As though trying to remember to keep his spine straight and constantly having to adjust his posture.

Eventually, he finds what he’s looking for with a bright cheer, popping up on his feet and practically racing back to the bed to dump the leather crop and paddle by your side. “How do you want me, Master?” He’s already panting like a bitch in heat, the slut.

“Over my lap, Masaru-chan.” You beckon him close and help arrange him to your liking. His long body hangs off on both sides of your thighs, but as he scrunches his body up, he curves and ensures his ass is in the prime position for paddling. Once in position, he slumps and relaxes, grunting occasionally and bucking his hard cock into your leg, anticipating that first blow.

With one hand on his back and the other poised above his ass, palm open, you wait. Watching quietly as his back muscles undulate, as he slowly goes limp the longer you go without spanking him. A minute goes by. Then two. Masaru, lazy fuck that he is, slumps down and rests his cheek on his forearms, his eyes slowly sliding shut when you land a sound spank on his left buttcheek.

The squeak that comes out of his mouth is comical, although not nearly as funny as his wide-eyed expression as he strains to look back at you. His mouth opens, presumably to sass you for waiting so long, so you stuff the paddle between his teeth carefully while starting a rhythm with your free hand. “Shut up and hold my paddle for me.”

“Yes, Master,” is what he would have said had his mouth been free. Instead, all you get is a low grunt as he arches his back, his teeth already forming light impressions on the wood. Impressions that match the several that already litter the well-used wooden paddle.

Slap slap slap - your hand follows the unsung rhythm in your head. Slap slap slap - his flesh ripples with your strikes, jiggling and shaking the harder you go. Slap slap slap - pins and needles assault your open palm, your skin stinging as much as his ass does under your hand.

His cock twitches and drools against your thigh, slipping and sliding with each rock of his hips until it falls into the warm embrace of your clenched thighs. He gasps then, moaning around the impromptu gag and clutches at the bedsheets with a white-knuckled grip. Bucks and rocks his hips and fucks your legs as your spanking drives him higher and higher. Fire blooms over his skin where you strike it, burns and throbs where you don’t, keeping him on edge until he groans loudly when you dig your nails into the abused flesh.

Foregoing the paddle, you snatch up your crop and start raining down strikes all over his cute butt, making sure the sharp outline of the crop stands out against his already reddening skin. Making sure you mark the spots that have gone untouched. Making sure that he jumps and winces when you slap at his vulnerable inner thighs. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Four new red marks bloom over the backs of his thighs, the skin already raising in a welt from how hard you hit him. And yet he just moans at the pain, whimpers and begs for more in a wet voice.

Digging your nails into his back, the crop in your hand swishes with the force of your swings, landing over and over and over on his skin until he’s writhing in a mixture of pain and pleasure. How do you know he’s feeling pleasure? Well, his cock is still rock hard, for one. And for another, you can recognise the tenseness in his thighs and his back that signal he’s fairly close to cumming. The trembling of his shoulders. The redness of the back of his neck. It all points to him channelling those intense sensations right down to his cock.

“Mmm, you wanna cum, Masaru-chan?”

Nuzzling into the sheets, paddle slipping out of his mouth, he nods with a smirk. “Please, Master?” The deep purr is interrupted by a low yelp as you slap him with the crop one more time, his thighs flexing and his head dropping between his shoulders as he breathes through the sharp pain. “Master, please let me cum?”

A smile spreads over your lips and you grasp his hair tightly, pulling and pulling until he’s trembling from the strain, his eyes flicking back towards you. “You’ll have to earn it.”

“Anything,” he whispers submissively, eyes wide and face slack in pleasure. Tremblingly, he moves and crawls into your lap as you take your shirt off, his knees on either side of your thighs. His cock bobs with each sway of his body, pulsing and throbbing and beading at the tip with clear precum. The pearl of it gleams white in the light, a sign that he’s about to blow his load at any minute.

When he’s perched just right, his cock hitting your belly, you lean back into the pillows and tug his head down. Urging him to suck and lave at your nipples and your breasts. Forcing him to take as much into his mouth as possible before letting it go with a sharp pop when you wrench him off by the hair. Masaru moans helplessly and obeys, his hands clutching and kneading at your sides, his toes curling and flexing, his cock twitching and tightening. His tongue whirls around your nipple and pokes and prods at it, his teeth joining his lips in marking up your flesh and letting sparks of pleasure skitter up and down your spine.

With one hand in his hair and the other on his cock, you steadily push Masaru to the edge. Up down, up down, up twist down. He sucks your breast to the time of your hand, hollowing his cheeks and then stretching his lips wide to take as much of your breast as he can into his mouth. But as he gets closer, the sloppier he gets. Saliva drips down the underside of your breast, trailing down down down until he dips his head enough to catch a little of it. He follows it back up to your tit, opting to litter soft little panting kisses there as he slowly loses his concentration.

The slick, slick sounds of his precum join his soft panting the harder and faster you stroke him, deepening and gaining in volume until he’s clutching at your hand desperately. “I’m almost-!”

“Inside me,” you snarl, pushing him over and rising over him like a queen conquering her foe. He squirms between your legs, his hair mussed and his glasses askew, his hands on your thighs and his callouses rasping at your skin as he tugs you closer.

“Yes,” he hisses, head flying back as you take his aching cock and angle it inside you. His cock, thick and twitching madly in your grip, sinks deep inside you slowly with the help of your weight. And once you’re sat across his hips, he wheezes out a deep groan, as though you punched him in the gut. “M-master~”

“Don’t sass me, move your hips.” Your order is firm, brooking no disobedience and Masaru would be a fool to push you. So he obeys, hands on your hips and legs shifting until his feet are flat against the bed, allowing him to use all the force in his tightly muscled body to fuck you as if his life depends on it. For all that he is a pillow princess, when it comes to this one treat, he never takes it lightly.

Where before the room echoed with the sounds of your crop and palm, now all that fills your ears are the slapping of his hips against yours and the deep, guttural grunts from both of you. You’re effectively being bounced atop him from the force of his thrusts, sending his cock balls deep with every upthrust and making you cry out from how good he feels. Growling and moaning, he tugs you down with needy hands to kiss you, lips sloppy and tongue licking all over you from how unfocused he is.

His fingers scrabble down your body in quick movements, scratching and clawing at your skin until he reaches your clit. Rubbing, pinching, tugging, dragging you to the edge right with him. It’s a testament to how long it’s been since you’ve had his cock inside you that you cum quickly just like that, just from his cock hitting the right spots and his talented fingers playing your clit just as he’s been taught.

Writhing and squirming on top of him, you latch onto his broad shoulders with your nails and your teeth, groaning and yelping into his flesh. Your legs clamp down on his sides, your pussy milks his still thrusting cock, and you just about taste blood on your tongue from how hard you’re biting him. The high of your orgasm feels like it goes on forever and ever, abating only when he begins to tremble uncontrollably and beg deliriously for permission to cum.

“Cum for me,” you whisper into his ear, moaning as he bucks up roughly into you and growls out your title under his breath. A deep warmth spreads inside you as he forces his hips against yours with a meaty thud, his thighs shaking and his cock twitching deep inside you. He cums and cums and cums, flooding you, filling you until you can feel his seed slipping out from around his thick cock.

Masaru pants heavily in your ear, his slick hair brushing against your temple as he shifts to press his lips against your cheek. Devoid of his earlier playfulness, he thanks you solemnly, pressing more butterfly kisses over your face as you turn to smile at him. As much as you love the playful, bratty Masaru, it’s always nice to just have a post-coital cuddle where you don’t have to wrangle him into obedience. So, sighing, you kiss him back and snuggle down to rest your cheek against his shoulder, keeping his cock nice and warm inside you while he softens slowly.

Of course, he wouldn’t be Masaru if his cock didn’t harden again almost immediately, the horn dog, but at least he doesn’t move to fuck you when you roll over to rest on your side.

“Can I suck on your nipple while you sleep, Master?” His shameless question is followed by his innocent, doe-eyed stare, one that nearly always gets him what he wants.

Tired but feeling accommodating, you nod and wrap your arms around his head as he bows his back to reach you. All the while still connected to you so intimately. And so you close your eyes and doze off quietly, feeling his soft lips and tongue suckle at your teat gently, coaxing you to rest.


End file.
